


Silence

by DeanObsessed



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Ending, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 19:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17065496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanObsessed/pseuds/DeanObsessed
Summary: It's the quiet that is the loudest.





	Silence

Most days it’s all he can think about. His mind gets so full that he thinks he’s going to go crazy. Everywhere he looks, everywhere he goes. 

The library researching, the hardware store buying bags of rock salt, a greasy dinner at 2am. He’ll think he sees floppy brown hair in the crowd or hears that deep rich laugh around the corner. Even though he’s alone, he buys for two. Double beds in the motel, two beers at the bar, hell even when he buys socks, he unconsciously throws in size 11 and size 13. 

When he sits to eat, he always looks at that empty space across from him. In the Impala, he looks left constantly to the seat across. He makes jokes and sarcastic comments aloud, always expecting a sassy reply that is never there. It’s a lifetime habit of having someone near, someone at his elbow, a once indisputable presence where now it’s just….. empty.

The quiet is so loud in his head sometimes he wants to bash his skull in. There may be noise around him, people chattering away, but for him it’s the loud silence the says the most. In response he finds himself speaking less. Voice gives way to nods and looks. He can’t stand the sound of his own voice without the answers he can now only hear in his head. Sometimes he’ll realize it’s been weeks since he last spoke and months before he has heard his own name spoken aloud. There is only one name in his head now. Only one name that holds any meaning. He tries to hold back from even thinking it, knows the wave of pain will hit him harder than a ton of bricks but its always there in the peripheral of his mind. But with that name is memories. Memories of love and memories of comfort that turn into memories of anguish, memories of blood. So much blood. 

One year. 365 Days. A lifetime. He tried, He really did. Tried to keep going when really it felt more like running. But now he’s tired. And its time to go home. He looks across of the expanse of desert around him. He smells the leather and gun oil from the black leather seats that surround him. His hand is steady, the weight in it a comfort. Making sure the angle is just right he finally allows himself to think the one thought that has been his constant since he was four years old. He smiles as the name invades his whole being. Sam. He feels his whole body relax with the knowledge that it was finally time. Sam. Metal in his hand and Sam in his heart. “Sammy, I’m coming.”


End file.
